


you'll be daffy, i'll be dilly

by polkaberry



Series: Dakotaverse [3]
Category: Diego Calls His Mom - SNL Sketch, Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live Sketches
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkaberry/pseuds/polkaberry
Summary: February brings about a fresh start for a stranger in a strange land (the remix).





	

A cold and cloudy Wednesday welcomes Diego to America.

For him, it’s a brand new day.

For North Dakota, it was just another day.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Diego does after retrieving his luggage from the airport carousel was find a local newspaper to peruse the classified section for a room for rent. He uses some of his savings to rent a hotel room for the night. He sleeps fitfully - the bed is too lumpy and not familiar to him.

The very next day, he’s settling into the guest room of a house belonging to a Mrs. McNulty. He lays down on the bed and closes his eyes, vibrating from the feeling of possibility buzzing in his heart and mind.

 

* * *

  

Diego goes shopping for groceries the next day. He’s waiting at the crosswalk and watching the cars pass by - his attention is caught by a shiny green Volkswagen that zips through the intersection.

He watches this car drive by, smiles at the sight of the driver enthusiastically singing along to a song. It’s a woman, and she’s shaking her hair and drumming on the wheel of the car - he can’t hear the music through the rolled-up windows, but it appears to have a fast tempo judging by the speed of her drumming.

 _It’s not safe to drum and drive_ , he thinks to himself. He shifts the groceries bags in his arms when the little walking man symbol lights up. He steps into the crosswalk and crosses the street without a problem, makes it back to Mrs. McNulty's without further incident.  

 

* * *

 

Diego calls his mom that night. He tells her he went shopping on his own, looked both ways before crossing the street, is eating three times a day, and is looking for a job everyday.

Mama tells him she is praying for him everyday. He tells her thank you, that he misses home, and that he loves her very much.

 

* * *

 

Diego goes for a walk through the downtown area to take a closer look at the town. He’s walking past a diner when he spots the green VW from the day before parked halfway down the block. It’s hard to miss that car - hunter green, backside covered with stickers, sunflower medallion hanging from the rearview mirror.

He turns to look into the shop’s front window and sees the woman who owns it behind the register at the front counter.

He then notices a help wanted sign in the window.

He takes a deep breath.

_Here goes nothing._

He walks in to inquire about the position - the diner is looking for a new dishwasher. He gives the owner a quick rundown of his work experience, is asked a few questions about his availability, and is hired on the spot. He's told he can start on Monday.

 

* * *

 

The ringing of Diego's alarm clock wakes him up at 5 a.m. that Monday. He reaches over and pushes the off button before taking a quick shower and dressing in his second-best shirt and pair of khakis before heading off to work.

He shows up at six a.m. on the dot. He's filling up the sinks with hot water when he hears the dining room swing open. He looks up from the sink in time to see a whirling gingham dervish come spiraling through with a stack of plates in hand.

“Hey! You must be Diego! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Preston.” She comes over and sets the stack of plates down next to him, holds out her hand. “How long have you been here?”

“I started today.” He shuts off the water and peels his rubber gloves off so he can shake her hand; he can feel his fingers pop from the firmness of her handshake.

“I saw you here when I applied on Saturday.”

“That’s right! I must have not seen you come in.”

“That’s cool. I mean, you were busy.” He adds a tablet of cleanser to the left sink.

“Are you liking it here so far?”

‘It’s great so far.” He puts the stack of plates on the space next to the left sink. “It will take time for me to get used to it.”

She touches his shoulder, gives him a gentle shake. “You’re going to do great here.” She glances through the order window. “Well, it’s time to get back out there. Got some hungry people coming in.”

She leaves the room just like how she came in, leaving a gust of warm air in her wake.

 

* * *

 

It’s slow towards the end of the shift, so Preston comes in and sits on the countertop next to the sink. Diego’s methodically rinsing dishes.

“You look bored, Diego.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are. I know boredom when I see it.”

He looks over at her and smiles. “Is it that bad?”

“Yes. Hey, how about I ask you some questions so you aren’t bored?”

“Okay.”

“So where are you from?”

“Puerto Rico.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“What brought you to America?”

“I wanted to see the country, get to know the people.” He pauses. “Eat some of the food I always see on television cooking shows.”

“You get Food Network down there?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What else do you like to do besides watch Food Network?”

“I like sports. I tried to play them, but I was not very good at it. So I like to watch them on TV instead.”

"What sports do you like to watch?"

"Football. Um, it's soccer up here. I forgot."

"I'd like to see that."

"It's bad. I'm terrible at it."

"I'm sure you're not. We should play football sometime." She smiles at him before sliding off the counter, smooths down the skirt of her dress.

"I'd like that."

He shuts off the water and wipes the water from the dish drying area. He yawns and stretches. "I'm very tired."

"Me too.”

“I have to walk home. I hope I don't fall asleep.”

“Me too.” She laughs. “I'll see you tomorrow?"

He's confused by her statement and frowns. “Yes, of course. I mean. I work here.”

“I was kidding. I know you'll be here tomorrow.”

“Okay.” His frown deepens; he can't help but feel like an idiot. “I am not good with the jokes people have here.”

“You'll catch on.” She unties her apron and walks over to hang it on the pegboard next to her name. “Time to call it a night.”

“Yes, yes it is. Good night, Preston."

"Night, Diego."

He stays behind after everyone's left. He looks out the front window of the diner, taking in the still scene of the night, before reaching up and pulling the cord on the neon open sign.

 

* * *

 

Preston likes to have music on while closing the diner. If it's not playing from the stereo, it's coming from her iPod.

Diego’s restocking pots and pans while Preston puts away the prep line food in the walk-in fridge. She’s humming a catchy song. He gets her attention by waving his hands.

“What are you listening to?” He shouts; to her, it looks like he’s mouthing the words.

She takes out one of her earbuds, holds it out to him. “The soundtrack to _Valley Girl._ It's this one song called ‘Eyes of a Stranger’. Do you want to listen?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over and places the earbud into his ear. She touches the screen and restarts the song from the beginning. They stand there and listen together, heads nodding and feet tapping in perfect time.

 

* * *

 

Diego asks Preston questions about herself so that he can get to know her better.

“What kind of music do you like?”

“A little bit of everything.”

“Ahh.” He frowns, at a loss at what to ask next. She sees him frown and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“How about I keep asking you questions, and that will help you think of things to ask me?”

“Okay, that sounds good.”

 

* * *

 

Diego likes to write, so he brings the journal he’s kept since he was sixteen. It’s full now, so he feels compelled to buy a new one to keep the old one company.

The first entry is very short:  

_I think that Preston is something like the phrase “like apple pie.” She has yellow hair, blue eyes, likes to wear an apron that matches the tablecloth._

_Calling someone pie sounds strange to me. Preston is not food and I cannot eat her._

_American sayings are very strange._

 

* * *

 

Preston brings one of her favorite CDs to work and plays it for Diego.

“Hey, I like this guy’s voice!” he shouts over the combined noise of the water, steamer, and din from the dining area.

"It's Hank Williams!" She gestures at him; he’s unclear what she’s trying to say.

“Let’s dance!”

“What?”

“Dance!”

"Is that allowed at work?"

She starts dancing her way across the room to him, pulls him to her by his apron strings. They dance around in the storage area, careful not to knock over any of the boxes. His cheeks are pink from laughing while she spins him around the room.

After work, she gives him an impromptu lesson in line-dancing. He trips over his feet about four times.

 

* * *

 

Preston starts giving Diego rides home after work.

He makes a comment about how he’s too tired to walk home, mentions how he was tempted to lie down on someone’s front lawn and just go to sleep there. Preston says she’d give him rides home from now on, _no I don’t want to hear you refuse, falling asleep on people’s lawns is something I wouldn’t advise doing, yes I did once and got taken home in a cop car, don’t give me that look._

After the diner’s closed for the night, they’re walking to her car. He smiles and points to it.

“Did you know this car is one of the first things I remember seeing when I got here?”

“Really?”

“I was waiting to cross the street at Pine and Hamilton and you drove past while drumming on the steering wheel.”

He’s surprised by how roomy the interior is. He asks where Preston puts all her legs since she is tall and the car seems unkind to tall people.

“Yoga!”  She laughs. “Gotta be limber to neatly fit inside the beetle.”

She starts the car, lets it warm up before driving out of the diner’s parking lot.

 

* * *

 

_Preston describes herself as a hippie. I ask her if she means hipsters, like the people at the coffee shop. She laughs and says no, what she believes in is the real thing, not something you can buy at Whole Foods._

He gulps and runs his hands over the fabric of his pants when an unbidden image of Preston doing yoga filters into his mind.

_She told me she does yoga to fit into her car. I think she was joking, but it is a thought will not leave my mind. She would look graceful doing it. I would look like a stiff idiot if I tried._

 

* * *

 

Diego calls his mom with an update on how he’s doing. She asks how work is going, if he's made any friends, is he eating well - all the normal mom questions.

He assures her everything is going well. He mentions Preston and talks about her at great length. Mama says she is happy Diego is making friends. She wishes him a good night and he tells her he loves her.

Diego hangs up and rests his head against the phone, the metal cool against his face. He didn’t tell mama that Preston is a woman. That was one conversation that always knew would make him nervous - talking about dating and girlfriends was something he was never included in and thus had a hard time discussing with family and friends.

Some things just did not come easy to Diego.

He tries doing yoga that night. He feels confident in the downward dog pose. All the attempts at other poses end in various degrees of failure.

 

* * *

 

Preston takes Diego for a drive out to the countryside. It’s a clear day, so they take advantage of the good weather by laying on the hood of her car.

He stares into the blue sky that’s dotted by lazily moving fluffy white clouds. He suddenly feels very small and reacts by reaching out for her hand.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She squeezes his hand, looks over with a concerned look.

“The sky is really big. Too big. It scares me.” He shivers and she squeezes his hand again.

“I’m not used to how big everything is here. The buildings, the cars. The food is big too. How is that possible?”

“I can’t tell you that one.”

“Does the sky ever make you feel small?”

“Of course.”

“Does it scare you?”

“I’ve grown up under this big sky, so I’m used to it. But I can see what you’re talking about.”

He moves closer to her; she responds by putting an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m here for you if the sky scares you again.”

 

* * *

 

Diego buys a secondhand acoustic guitar and a how to play for beginners book.

It takes him a few weeks to learn one particular song well enough, as well as using Google to translate the lyrics into Spanish,  that he feels confident to play it for Preston.

He gets the opportunity to play a week later when she drops him off at Mrs. McNulty’s. He invites her in, says he has something he wants to show her.

As he quietly unlocks and opens the front door, he sees that Mrs. McNulty is asleep in her chair in front of the TV. They’re able to make it upstairs to his room without her seeing that he’s got someone with him. He opens his bedroom door just as quiet as the front one, reaches around the door frame to turn the lights on.

“Ooh, Diego. Taking a lady to your room. So forward.” She walks in first, stepping out of her flats and leaving them by the door.

He laughs and nervously scratches the back of his neck. “I, um. I wanted to show you something.”

She sits at the end of his bed, neatly tucks her feet under her thighs. “Go ahead.”

He walks over to where his guitar is propped against the wall, picks it up and slides the strap over his shoulders. He strums the strings and adjusts for tuning.

“I learned a song on the guitar and I want to play it for you.”

“Aw, Diego.”

“I am going to sing it in Spanish since I do not sound so good singing in English.”

“Hey, that’s cool. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

He smiles and strums the strings again before starting to play the first notes of the song. He takes a deep breath before he starts to sing.

It takes a couple of verses for her to recognize the song - it’s one of her favorite Hank Williams songs. She whistles and claps along, encouraging him to finish playing the song, nodding for him to go on when his voice either cracks or falters.

His face is tingling from a combination of exertion and nerves by the time he plays the last note. He smiles at her, runs his fingers down the leather strap lying diagonally across his chest.

“How did I do?”

“That was wonderful!”

“I am glad you liked it.”

“I knew what it was right away. You did a great job, Diego.”

She unfolds her legs and gets off the bed, walks over and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. That made my day.”

“ _De nada.”_

 

* * *

 

A couple more months go by and Diego finds himself part of the diner family. All of the waitresses - Alex and Preston especially - take Diego under their wing.

There's a party at Alex's apartment; she insists that Diego attend, that he needs to cut those khakis loose. He spends most of his time sitting on the sofa, nursing a drink and watching the rest of the party move around him.

After everyone’s left, it’s just Alex, Diego, Preston, and half a bottle of tequila, which leads to Alex instigating a game of Never Have I Ever. Alex and Preston do more shots than Diego, but he’s able to drink a few based on the nature of the questions. Preston’s eyes go wide and Alex hoots when Diego drinks after the question about kissing another man.

“ _Whaaaaaaaaaaat._ ” Preston reaches over, gently taps Diego’s arm with her fist. “I need to hear this.”

“You think I haven’t played this game before? Or Truth or Dare?” Diego laughs, takes another shot for the hell of it. “I have secrets, you know.”

Alex laughs, reaches for the bottle. “Did you hear that? He’s got _seeeeeeecrets_ , Preston. Your man’s an enigma.”

Diego takes another shot, swishes the liquid around in his mouth, thinks about Alex’s statement.

_Since when am I an enigma? More importantly, since when am I Preston’s man?_

 

* * *

 

Diego receives a care package from home. It’s filled to the brim with his favorite snack foods. One of the items is a Ziploc bag of gofio. He brings it along when he, Alex, and Preston spend the day at the park near work.

He uses the restroom to change into a t-shirt and baggy shorts so he’s comfortable while kicking a soccer ball around for simple exercise. Alex whistles at him when he walks over before she leans over to whisper something into Preston’s ear. He squints against the sunlight obscuring his vision and covers his eyes for shade, sees the girls laughing about something. He drops the ball into the grass and starts maneuvering it around.

He shows Alex and Preston how to do the fósforo trick. He ends up with a face full of sugar courtesy of Preston, he smiles when the sweet sound of her laughter rings in his ears.

After dropping Alex off at her place, Diego’s quiet during most of the drive back to Mrs. McNulty’s. Preston notices his silence, turns the radio down.

“What’s wrong, Diego?”

“What did Alex say about me earlier while I was playing soccer? I saw her whispering to you.”

“Ahh.” She bites her bottom lip. “It was...well. It was something of a risque nature.”

“Risque?”

“Yeah. She, ahh. She noticed how loose your shorts were and whispered about it to me.”

“Those are my comfortable shorts. I always wear them when I play soccer.”

“I’ll say.” She chuckles. “Do you, um. Do you wear underwear under your shorts?

“Of course.”

“Then I’m sure you have an intimate understanding of the concept of free-balling.”

“Free-balling?” His face turns red when he realizes the meaning of that slang. “Oh. Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry. Alex wasn’t sorry, trust me.”

He feels his face get redder, not aware that was possible.

 

* * *

 

_It seems Alex thinks I’m attractive. She was watching me play soccer, but didn’t pay attention to my footwork. She was too busy paying attention to how much I was free-balling._

_I’m glad Preston told me about that. It perplexes me - nobody, especially a woman, has paid much attention to what goes on under my shorts while I played football at home._

_Should I wear a second pair of underwear under my soccer shorts next time? I feel improper that my goods were on display for my friends. That’s not covered in any kind of manner handbook, I’m sure._

He chews on the cap of the pen, distracted by the sight of the full moon peeking through the branches of the tree next to his window.

_Yes, extra underwear. For padding. And for the ladies. No more being scandalous in public._

 

* * *

 

Alex and Preston take Diego to the mall, introduce him to the concept of the food court, along with the novelty of free samples. He pockets the samples of free food, as well as experiences being the template for finely applied eyeliner from one of the ladies at Sephora. All of the ladies coo over Diego in makeup and wholeheartedly agree that eyeliner suits him. He blushes and offers the ladies his samples of chocolate.

When Alex and Preston take him their favorite Western shop, they insist that he try on a pair of standard cowboy jeans. He tries to ward them off, but they insist that he just try one one pair, for them, _pleeeease_. He caves in and says yes, finding himself with a bundle of jeans in his arms a minute later.  He tries on all the jeans to be polite, huffs at how most of them are too long. He pokes his head out from the dressing room and asks if there’s an attendant that could measure him so he could find the right jeans.

He’s helped by a friend of Alex’s named Hercules, who measures Diego and finds him the proper jeans to try on. After he’s put them on and comes out of the dressing room, he’s greeted by whistles from the ladies.

“Lookin’ good, big D,” Preston says.

Alex chimes in with her own observation: “Got a lot riding in that saddle, Diego. My goodness.”

Diego blushes and hurries back into the dressing room and changes back into his normal pants. He buys two pairs of the jeans, much to Preston’s delight (“You need to wear those all the time so they break in the right way.”)

He thanks them for a wonderful day when they drop him off at home.

Diego has a low moment after he gets off the phone with mama. He sits at the end of his bed, looks at the wall, and sighs. He gets up to write in his journal.

_It’s very lonely when I’m not at the diner or spending time with Preston and Alex. They are my friends and I like spending time with them. I would like to have someone to spend more time with. Mama asks if I am dating - I say no and she says nothing, but I can hear her sigh on the other end of the telephone._

Diego pauses his writing to chew on his pen cap, thinks of the best way to word his next thought, then continues.

_The other day, I asked Preston if she had a boyfriend, then immediately apologized. That was not the proper thing to ask a coworker. She smiled, said it was all right, told me she didn’t. She’s too busy with work and family to date, and that suits her just fine._

_I like how independent Preston is. I wish I could be as free as she is with her opinions and way of doing things. I wish I could feel not so afraid to ask her the questions she asks of me._

 

* * *

 

Diego buys an apple pie-scented air freshener for Preston’s car. He smiles to himself when he sees it hanging next to the sunflower medallion.

In return, she buys him a Hot Tamale-scented candle. He looks at it, rolls the glass jar between his hands, pops the lid off to take a whiff. He asks her for the reason behind the candle.

She shifts her weight from her left hip to the right, fingers nervously playing with a stray thread on the hem of her dress.

“Well, you can’t have a good apple pie without a hint of cinnamon. It just wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be complete.”

 

* * *

 

It’s an unusually warm day for May. It’s affecting everyone in town - Preston seems to be one who is more affected than others. She’s not wearing her customary dress to work - she opts for a tank top and a skirt. Her hair is piled into a messy bun and she’s quiet during her shift.

Diego wants to ask what’s wrong. The heat prickles the skin on the nape of his neck. He wipes the sweat away while watching Preston drink another glass of ice water. His eyes are drawn to a stray drop that inches its way down her chin and lands in the valley between her breasts. He turns away and wipes his face before walking into the freezer to cool off, both physically and mentally.

When the diner’s finally closed for the night, Diego says goodnight to Preston. He’s not sure how, but he can hear a crackle of electricity in Preston’s voice when she returns his goodnight.

He keeps thinking about that in the quiet that envelops him during the night.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Diego’s waiting for Preston to give him a ride home after closing up the diner for the night. He pulls his journal out of his messenger bag, starts to write.

_I had a naughty dream about Preston the other night. It was fuzzy, but I do remember that we were both naked and there was lots of kissing involved._

He looks up to see where Preston is; she’s wiping down a table two booths over. He leans over the book, afraid she can see what he’s writing even though she’s a good distance away.

_I woke up with very sticky thighs. I took a shower and tried to wash away the embarrassment - I should not think of Preston like that. I like her, but that dream was too much for me to be comfortable with._

He looks up again and sees her walking over. He puts the journal away in a hurry and stands up, nervously twisting the bag strap around his fingers.

“Hey, what was that?”

“Um. My journal.”

“That’s cool. Anything about me in there?”

He freezes, feels his face heat up.

“There is!” She reaches over and starts tickling him. He protests and shuffles back to get away.

“You’re ticklish!”

“Only in the middle.”

“I’ll remember that.” She gives him a playful smile. “I don’t want to read it, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s none of my business.”

“You’re in it,” he blurts out.

“Aww.”

“You’re special to me. You and Alex and everyone here at the diner. You’re the only friends I have.”

She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight, rests her head on his shoulder.

“You’re special to me too.”

 

* * *

 

_I’m having feelings for Preston. I want to ask her questions about that, but I’m too shy. I’m not the kind of guy she likes. I’m short and I have a big nose and I don’t have muscles. I would look silly next to her._

_She knows about this journal. She didn’t ask to read it, I’m glad for that._

_I want to be her friend and keep it that way._

_I will stay quiet._

_I’m glad I have this journal. It's easier to write all of this down than talk about it to people._

 

* * *

 

There’s a few people lingering in the diner; it’s always slow after the lunch crowd leaves. Preston’s sitting on the counter next to the sink, swinging her legs side to side and humming along with the classical music coming from the stereo above the sink. Diego’s scrubbing at some rather difficult biscuit residue stuck on one of the baking trays when Preston leans over and talks low so only he can hear.

“Hey, Diego. Let’s go out sometime, just you and me.”

He drops the tray and copper scrubbing pad into the suds, looks at her with a shocked look.

“A date? Like...a couple?”

“Yes, Diego.” She smiles. “I like you. I want to go out with you.”

“Really?”

“I keep thinking about what you told me the other day and we seem to be on the same wavelength.”

“We are? I mean. Oh, I am.” He pauses. “I’m tongue-tied.”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there we are.”

 

* * *

 

Diego goes home, showers, puts on his best shirt and new khakis. He looks at himself in the mirror, smooths his hair down, thinks that mama would approve of his outfit.

He's starting to leave when he stops and goes to write in his journal.

_Preston asked me out today. I just got ready and wearing my best new outfit._

_I am very nervous. I have not been on a date before and I do not know what to expect._

 

* * *

 

Their first date is something simple and something they’ve already done: drive to the outskirts of town to stargaze.

Diego teaches Preston the names of the constellations in Spanish. He closes his eyes and lets the sound of her voice curl like smoke into his ears as she recites the names of the stars.

"I didn't know you knew so much about the stars."

"Stars are very interesting. How they got their names, the significant effect they've had on people through the ages. They are very important and should be respected."

It’s a slow drive back to town. He doesn’t want to go to bed. He wants to stay awake and keep hearing her voice saying the names of the stars. He chooses to keep hearing them as he drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Their second date starts at one of her favorite burger places. After dinner, they drive around town which becomes boring after twenty minutes. They decide to drive away from the city and into the countryside for a better view of the stars.

She parks the car in an open lot and motions for him to get out and join her to lie on the hood. His hands are resting on his stomach, fingers interlocked, feet dangling above the front bumper, mind racing as he looks up at the stars. He so nervous that he doesn’t dare look over at her to see what she’s doing.

When he does dare to look over, she's a physical mirror of him; her fingers are plucking at the sash on her dress and she keeps crossing and uncrossing her ankles. She is looking up at the stars, silently asking them what she should do now.

A shooting star appears, zooms across the inky black sky. Preston hears Diego gasp softly - she takes this as the sign she needs.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

He shakes his head no.

“Do you want to?”

He nods and she sits up and leans over to him, tilts her head down and to the left to kiss him. She hears him gasp and makes to pull away, but he reaches up and holds her in place, leaning in to return her kiss. She pulls back and smiles before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay, go easy on the teeth. And slow down. This isn’t a race.”

He looks down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“Here. Let’s try again. Slower this time.” She moves in, tilts her head to the right this time. He follows her lead, opens his mouth when she licks his bottom lip as a means of asking to be let in. He moans softly when her tongue meets his.

The kissing continues until a rustling noise in the bushes near the car startles them. They pull apart and slide off the hood of the car, stopping when the rustling picks up again.

“What do you think that is?” he whispers. She shushes him and gestures for him to join her in hiding behind the car. They’re peering over the hood when the bushes rustle one last time before a doe comes out, followed by one of her offspring.

He nudges her in the ribs. “Oh my goodness, Preston, look. It’s Bambi and his mama.”

She snorts. “That's not Bambi.”

“Hey, let me enjoy this. It’s Bambi and his mama to me.”

“Calm down. You’re as excited as Thumper.”

“I like Thumper.”

Half an hour later, she drives him back to Mrs McNulty's. She walks him to the front door and says good night, starts to turn away to leave, but decides she can't leave without giving him a long goodnight kiss.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” He touches his kiss-swollen lips.

“Practice.”

“I wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

She laughs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “There will be more in due time, don’t worry about it.”

“Good night, Preston.”

“Good night, Diego.”

He stands on the top step and watches her car drive up the street to the stop sign. It’s illuminated by the street light for a moment before turning the corner into darkness.

 

* * *

 

Diego uses the kitchen at Preston’s house so he could make her a birthday dinner.  She drives to Mrs McNulty's to pick him up; she's wearing her favorite gingham dress and best cowboy boots. He thinks she looks amazing.

He makes enchiladas, staying faithful to his mama’s recipe. Dinner is followed by a small cake he’d baked that afternoon. He brings the cake out and lights all the candles, turns off the lights for visual emphasis, and tells her to make a wish. She blows out all the candles with gusto, admonishes the one candle that just won’t go out.

“I know not to ask for wishes, so I won’t.” He cuts the cake and gives her the biggest slice.

“It was a small wish. Nothing to make a big fuss over.” She takes a bite of cake, gets a dollop of frosting on her upper lip. He reaches out and wipes it away, laughs when she bites his finger.

“Hey, I need that. I’m no good as a dishwasher if I’m missing pieces of my hand.”

She scoops frosting onto her finger and smears it over his lips before moving in and licking it off.

He shivers and slides an arm around her waist, presses his hips into hers.

“Ooh, is this part of your birthday present to me?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Give me some of your cake, Diego.” She laughs and kisses him properly, slides her hands into the front pockets of his khakis.

“Diego, it’s my birthday. The birthday girl wants you to do something for her.”

“What’s that?”

For laughs, Diego tries on a pair of Preston’s tightest jeans. He falls onto the floor when he tries to tug them off after the denim gets stuck around his thighs.

“Oh my god, Diego. Don’t move.” She runs to get her phone, coming back a minute later and sits on the floor next to him, starts taking pictures.

“Preston, stop! Help me get these pants off!”

“I will after I get footage of Diego versus the Wranglers of doom.” She sets the phone down and looks him over.

“Hey, that’s interesting.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you dressed to the right.”

“To the right?”

“I can see your junk, dude. You hang to the right.”

“Oh.” He covers himself with his hands, self-conscious again. "I need to stop doing that in front of you and Alex. It's rude."

She chuckles, leans in to kiss him on the cheek. “I don't mind so much. The khakis hold back surprises. Happy birthday to me.”

 

* * *

 

Preston invites Diego over to her house so they can have a movie night. She explains the meaning of ‘Netflix and chill’ to him while they’re at work. He coughs and submerges his hands into soapy water to keep from flailing.

He’s captivated by the landscape on the drive out to her family’s farm. Diego takes a few photos of the buildings on the property. It reminds him of something you would see in a classic painting of the Midwest: wheat field, corn field, sunflowers, a big red barn.

This night is also the first time that he sees her in the nude.

It happens by accident. She goes upstairs to shower, but he wasn't aware of this. He makes small talk before heading up to her room. He has the misfortune of walking in at the wrong time. He opens the door at the same time she emerges from the bathroom. Diego’s the one to make a surprised noise; he covers his face with his hands.

“I’m so sorry, oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were in the shower.”

“Diego. Diego, chill. It’s okay. Here.” She unwinds the towel from her head, starts to dry her hair. “I’ll put this towel on.”

His face is still in his hands, so his reply is muffled. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

“I’m not. It’s okay, it’s only me, but without clothing.”

“You’re naked.”

“So?”

He thinks about that for a moment before dropping his hands away from his face. He looks at her face, scared to look anywhere else in case his eyes caught a glimpse of her below the neck.

“Diego, really. It’s okay. Have you not seen a naked woman before?”

“Not-not up close. Not like this. Well. One time, I saw an issue of Playboy once at my cousin’s house.”

“This isn’t Playboy. No airbrushing here.”

“I, um. I see this.”

“You can look at me.”

He allows his eyes to move away from her face. He takes a deep breath and starts looking at the rest of her.

Sprinkle of freckles along her shoulders. Tiny scar on her upper right arm from the time she was four and fell off the tire swing. Breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples. Narrow waist, hips that curved just so. Nest of dark blonde curls between her thighs.

To Diego, she looks like she would feel as soft as silk. He knows from his upbringing that women were soft, as was he, but he didn't feel as confident as her if he was asked to compare against him in that moment.

“You can join me, you know.”

“What?” He sputters. "Join you where?"

She laughs so hard that her nose scrunches up and the corners of her eyes crinkle. “I meant that you should take your clothes off too. Let’s even the playing field.” She walks over to him and rests her hands on his upper arms. “I’d like to look at you too.”

“Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I want to even the playing field.”

Preston leans in and starts to undo the buttons on his shirt.  Diego curls in on himself - he suddenly doesn’t want Preston to see his inadequacies. She pulls his arms away from where they’re crossed over his stomach.

“Hey. You look great,” she says assertively. She moves her hands to his stomach, runs a fingertip around the rim of his bellybutton. Diego shivers from the touch, digs his fingernails into the fabric of his pants.

“How about we just sit around naked and watch a movie? Like, you know. Get familiar with each other on just this level for now?”

He shuffles from side to side, fingers plucking at the hem of his shirt. He focuses his sight on her shoulder.

“Okay, that sounds good.”

“Great. I’ll go make us a snack. Pick a movie.”

She puts on a robe and heads down to the kitchen while he finishes undressing. He neatly folds his clothes and sets them at the end of the coffee table before picking a movie and putting the DVD into the player. She comes back up with bowls of chips and dip, sets them down on the table by the TV before removing her robe.

“What movie did you pick?”

_“Super Mario Brothers.”_

“A classic.” She sets the food down and drops onto the bed, stretches her legs out. “Come sit with me.”

He has the urge to grab his pile of clothes and hold it over himself, but he tamps it down and sits near Preston. She looks over at him, smiles softly.

“Hey, you’re uncut. That’s pretty cool.” She gently puts her feet in his lap, rests her heels on his thighs. He looks down at himself and shrugs.

“Most guys here don’t have foreskin.”

“No?”

“Nope. You’re the first guy I’ve seen who’s intact.” Preston gestures to the food on the table. “Help yourself if you’re hungry.”

“You’re not going to make a fuss that I’m naked?”

“Nah. Naked’s naked.” She moves closer to him, wraps her arms around his shoulders. “We’re just hanging out like usual, but without clothes. Does it feel any different to you?”

“Well, not really. I don’t feel weird anymore.”

“See? We’re friends just hanging out, both literally and figuratively.” She kisses him on the cheek and grins.

“Yes, I understand.” He smiles back at her, kisses her on the cheek in return.

She leans over and maneuvers a chip into the dip. “Let’s get to that movie, yeah?”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

When it’s movie night at her house, they stay up in her room for privacy. Diego starts being the one to initiate removing their clothes, much to Preston’s delight.

He finally gets to meet her cat, Mickles. As soon as he sits on the bed, Mickles is in his lap, purring and headbutting his hand for pets.

“He doesn’t like many people. Rare exception you are, Diego.”

He looks up at her and smiles while he scratches Mickles between the ears. She's putting a DVD in when Diego gets up to make popcorn.

“Nice peaches, Diego.”  

"What?"

She moves Mickles off her lap and pushes herself off the bed and saunters over to him, runs her hands down his back before placing them on his ass. She gives each cheek a firm squeeze.

“These peaches, of course.”

He laughs and moves away from her touch, an affronted expression on his face.

“Your hands are cold! My peaches are now cold. That wasn’t very nice. I wouldn’t put my cold hands on your…” He pauses. “Your coconuts.”

“Coconuts? What the hell?”

He blushes. “Like. A coconut bra would look good on you.”

“You put a lot of thought into considering my breasts as being akin to coconuts.”

He blushes more. “I think a lot about them.”

She hops up to sit on the edge of the bed before maneuvering to the middle. “Come over here and I’ll warm up your hands so you can put them on my coconuts.” She winks at him and makes a come hither motion with her hands.

He makes his way over, rubbing his hands together to warm them up for her. He cups left breast in his hand, opens his mouth as wide as he can and presses it to her skin, licks over her nipple before starting to suckle.

She slides her hands into his hair, tugs gently from the reaction that makes her stomach flutter and thighs tense up. He wraps his arms around her waist and starts to lay her down when her mom announces from downstairs that dinner’s ready. He pulls away with a groan and reaches for his pants. He slides off the bed and steps into them.

“We never get very far here. I’m not complaining about what we do get to do, it’s just. There’s no finish line.”

“We’ll get to that finish line one of the days. Don’t rush it. The journey there is the fun part.”

 

* * *

 

The movie the following week was _Y Tu Mama Tambien_. Diego spends most of the film with a throw pillow firmly planted over his lap. When the credits start rolling, Preston looks over at him, sees how hard he’s gripping the pillow.

“You look sweaty.”

“I am. It’s really hot in here. Are you warm? I'm warm. Maybe I should take a bath or something.” He realizes he’s babbling, but he doesn’t care.

“Nice try. I know it was because of the movie.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Okay.” He stands up, keeps the pillow over his lap.

“Diego.”

“What?”

“I know you’re hard, so just do away with the pillow.”

“No.” He goes into the bathroom, flips the light switch on with his free hand, looks at the bathtub situated in the corner. “Oh wow, it’s huge.”

“That’s what I like about it.” She walks up behind him, drapes her arms over his shoulders.

“You could fit two people in there!”

“Yep.”

“You’ve tried?”

“Yep.” She moves from behind him, walks over to the tub and sits on the edge.

“You and who else?”

“Alex. She fell into a mud puddle here once and I had to get in with her so I could scrub at her hair. She was such a mess.”

“Ahh.” He watches as she turns the water on and adds a healthy amount of bubble bath, hypnotized by the sight of rapidly growing foam.

“Want to share this tub with me?” She looks over her shoulder at him, gives him a sly smile.

“No, I won’t want to make a mess.” He walks to the tub, leans over and tests the water with a hand. He deems it warm enough so he gets in. He turns the water off a minute later when it gets high enough.

“Want me to wash your back?” She smiles, dips her hands in the water to wet the washcloth before soaping it up. She runs the fabric over his shoulders and down his back.

“That tickles.” He turns his face away, blushes a deep red. He glances down at his lap, brings his legs up in an attempt to hide his problem from her.

She shifts on the edge of the tub, looks down at him as she keeps running the washcloth down his back. “Do you want me to help you?”

“Please? Am I being too polite right now? I don’t know what to do.”

“Talking’s good. Talking helps. Tell me more, Diego.”

He looks down at the floor.

“I can tell you a little something first.” She moves the washcloth in circles over the back of his neck.

“Okay.”

She shifts closer to him, rests her chin on his shoulder. She reaches out, touches his forearms, feels the goosebumps rise there. She runs her fingers up and down from wrist to elbow, smiles at him.

“Do you know you have really nice arms?” She moves closer to him. “Y’know, I have a little secret.”

“Hmm?”

“I like to look at them while we’re at work. I also like to look at your hands. They’re just so strong, so sturdy. Reliable. Able to get the job done. I know what they can do. I like what they can do.”

He shivers and curls his legs up to his lap, shivers when he feels his cock twitch. She kisses him on the cheek, moves up to kiss his earlobe.

“I think about those hands touching me.” She breathes hotly into his ear, shifts again, this time it’s more to ease the pressure building low in her stomach. “Not now, but soon, I want to feel your hands between my thighs, your fingers inside me.” She kisses the curve of his neck before moving away to look at him.

“Preston,” he breathes out, looks at her from the corner of his eye.

“Did that help you any?”

“Yes and no” He pauses, relaxes a little, takes a breath. “I want to touch you, and kiss you, and...I’m so embarrassed, Preston. And you...you’re so calm about this and I’m not and…”

“Do you want me to get in there with you?”

“Yes.”

She carefully lowers herself into the water, straddles his calves. The water rises up to her thighs. He looks at the mounds of bubbles that move and stick to her hips.

“May I touch you, Diego?”

“Yes, please.” He covers his face with his hands, feeling like every light in the room is shining on him.

“Let me look at you, okay? This is a lot for you, talk it out. I’m listening.”

She leans in to kiss him, slides a hand down his chest and stomach, ending her path by wrapping it around his cock. He thrusts into her grasp; she smiles and strokes him a couple of times, touches the skin at the head.

“Anyone ever do this to you before?” She slides her other hand underwater, eases his thighs apart. He shakes his head no, a faint pink tinge coloring his face and neck.

“Grab the sides of the tub and hold on. Let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?”

She looks down at his cock and regards it for a moment from this angle - it could definitely be categorized as good - just above average, thick enough for her preference, surrounded at the base in a thatch of black curls.

“You’re just cute all over.” She runs a fingertip up the side of his cock, looks up at him when he shivers.  

“You’ve got a great dick.”

“What?”

“It’s very good. It’s textbook good.”  

He shakes his head in disbelief. “I never thought of it anything more than just mine.”

“It’s really good, trust me.”

She gently tugs at his foreskin using her index and middle fingers; she hears him groan from above, so she takes that as a sign to keep going. She uses her other hand to cup and roll his balls in her palm; she can see his thighs tense up when he moves up into her touch.

“Good?” She looks at him, takes in the sight of his face; his eyes are dark, his cheeks have a dark pink tinge to them, his bottom lip is red from biting.

“I don’t think we should finish in here. Too wet and slippery.” He’s so close to spilling into her hand; he doesn’t want to do that here.

_I don’t want this to end so soon._

“I like it wet and slippery,” she counters. She leans in and puts her mouth close to his ear. “I want to do something more for you.” She nuzzles his ear. “I can also see it on your face that you don’t want this to end.”

“I don’t. What more can you do for me?”

“That’s another secret. I want to suck you off. Feel that cock in my mouth.”

“Preston.” A shiver runs through his entire body, causing the water to ripple around them.

“Let’s go to my bed, yeah? I wanna get you spread out, comfortable, so I can get between your legs and get my mouth on you.”

She moves back and steps out of the tub, grabs a towel and quickly dries off, hands the towel to him. He gets out and copies her, reaches for her hand when he’s done. She holds his hand, laces fingers with his and walks him back to her room.

“Get comfortable, okay?”

He lays down on the bed, looks down at her while she kneels between his legs.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

She sweeps her hair to the side before leaning down, wraps her fingers around him. She gently pulls down on the foreskin to expose the head before wriggling her tongue against the slit, licking away the beads of precome. She looks up at him, uses her eyes to silently ask him how he’s doing. He shudders, tips his head back, fights the urge to thrust up into her mouth. She moves down, takes half of him into her mouth with ease, presses the flat of her tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Preston, I’m not going to last.” He digs his fingernails into his thighs, squirming underneath her ministrations.

“I won’t make you wait, then.”

She starts bobbing her head, hands resting on top of his, fingertips rubbing circles on his wrists. She takes half of him in, hollows her cheeks, presses the tip of her tongue into the slit. He turns his hands over, links fingers with her, crying out when she starts moving her mouth faster. He turns his hands over and laces his fingers through Preston’s: he’s coming a moment later.

She swallows around him, slowly pulling her mouth away. She looks up at him, licks a drop of his come from her bottom lip. He looks down at her through half-lidded eyes; it’s all his body feels like it can manage to do after that. She moves back up, presses her chest against his.

“Are you okay? You look in a state of shock.”

It takes a minute for him to respond. “Yes. I’ve-I’ve never had that done to me.”

“Looks like you had a good time to me.”

“Aah, well. Yes.”

She giggles. “There’s nothing wrong about that.”

“I want to do the same for you,” He blushes, spots of pink appearing on his cheeks. “I want to make you feel good too.”

“Soon, okay? Let’s go to sleep now. I’m worn out.”

“Me too.”

 

* * *

 

Diego comes to work one day looking slightly less chipper than usual. He gets through his shift with no problems.

He goes outside to the delivery dock and sits down on a stack of empty plastic crates  and sighs heavily before starting to cry. He’s wiping his face with the hem of his apron when he hears the back door creak open, followed by the feel of someone pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Preston sits next to him, reaches for his hand.

He sniffs, takes a deep breath, squeezes her hand.“Mrs. McNulty is kicking me out.”

“What?”

“Her nephew is moving back to town and needs a place to live and she told me I have to go.”

“That’s not right.”

“And I don’t have anywhere to move to and…” He trails off, takes another deep breath. “I’m scared, Preston.”

“How long until you have to move out?”

“Two weeks.”

She laces her fingers with his. “Hey, I’ll ask around, talk to some people I know. I’ll find you a good place, Diego. I promise.”

He smiles for real for the first time that day. “Pinkie swear? Is that right?”

“Yes.” She moves her hand so she can hook her pinkie finger around his.

“Thank you, Preston.”

“Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

The following week is the first week of July. The diner is closed the day before the fourth, so Preston and Diego drive out of town so she can go look at wildflowers.

They’re parked just off the side of the road, next to a field of bright orange and purple flowers. He’s comfortably sprawled on the hood of the car, leaning against the windshield with her sitting between his legs, her back pressed to his chest.

“Hey, Diego.”

“Yes?”

“So I talked to my parents and they said they’d be cool with it if you moved in.”

“What?”

“It will be better than living at Mrs. McNulty’s. We’d get to see each other all the time and you’d have much more freedom.” To emphasize her point, she slides off the hood of the car and stands in front of him, undoes the top buttons of her blouse, letting it fall open slightly, enough to give him a peek at the bra strap.

“Think I could get away with this at Mrs. McNulty’s?”

“You are downright scandalous, Preston.”

“You like it.”

 

* * *

 

The entire town comes out for the fireworks show the following night. It takes Preston a while to find a parking spot since all the good ones are taken, as well as the bad ones. She finally finds one towards the end of a row next to a log fence. Diego takes the blankets out of the backseat.

They're lying on a blanket on the ground next to her car; the other blanket is draped over their legs. Underneath this blanket, they hold hands, fingers tightening each time there's a particularly big boom. He alternates between looking at the colors in the sky and the colors that play across her face.

After everyone has left, they stay behind, moving from the ground to the backseat of her car.

"Do you want to go home?" He asks.

She looks over at him. "Not yet."

"What do you want to do then?"

"Make out with you, obviously."

He gives her a mischievous grin. "That sounds good."

 

* * *

 

Diego moves to the Moffats' the next day.

He only has a few boxes of things to move, so he’s settled into the guest room before the day is up. Mickles makes it a point to rub her face against the spines of his books. He frowns at Preston.

“I’ve lost my books to the cat, Preston. What should I do now?”

“Share them, of course.”

 

* * *

 

Diego wears a full pajama set to bed; Preston scoffs and asks him to take it off.

"I like my pajamas."

"And it's like seventy something outside. It's too damn hot for clothes at night. Take those off."

He pouts, clutches his shirt.

“Isn’t something I haven’t seen before. Anyways, we can keep each other company.” She pats the empty space next to her. “Come join me, I’m getting lonely under here.”

He stands next to the bed and removes his pajamas, folds them neatly and sets them on the chair in the corner. Mickles walks over and jumps onto them, sniffing them gingerly before circling twice and curling up on them.

“Looks like you lost your pajamas along with the books.”

“I don’t mind so much.” He slides into bed, wriggles down under the blankets. “Mickles is good about sharing.”

 

* * *

 

Even though he should be comfortable around her, Diego always gets shy when it comes to discussing taking it further. He knows that Preston isn’t a stranger to sex and feels that he can't talk about much to her. He tells this much, so she keeps things reserved so she doesn’t overwhelm him with too much information at once.

The exception to keeping things measured is when she wants him to go down on her.

(Diego's had one one brief experience with giving head - he had a girlfriend in high school and went down on her once. She stopped him because, well, he didn't know what he was doing. He's not so stupid as to ignore the fact that a couple of licks did not equal good oral sex.)

Preston’s sprawled out on her bed when Diego comes out of the bathroom. She looks him over from bottom to top, stops looking when she reaches his mouth. That mouth. It’s been showing up in her dreams so often lately that she wants to feel it in this realm.

“Diego, c’mere.” She pats the space next to her. He joins her a moment later, looking down at her curiously.

“Have you ever gone down on a woman?”

“Once.”

She reaches up, runs her fingertips across his open mouth, presses down on his lower lip.

“Do you want to go down on me?”

He glances down at where her legs are spread, blushes. “Yes, but I am warning you now. I was told I'm bad at it.”

“I’ll help you.” She pulls him in for a kiss, holds him close. They spend some time kissing before she takes his hand and guides it between her thighs. He slides down her body, takes a nipple into his mouth.

“I’m so wet for you, Diego,” she whispers, arches her back, presses her breast against his mouth. He moans into her and teases her by keeping his touch light on the skin of her inner thighs. He shifts so that he's kneeling between her legs, brushes his fingers over the damp hair between her thighs before slowly parting her open so he can look at her.

“There’s a couple of rules to follow when going down on a woman.”

“What are those?”

“One, trim your fingernails. Two, go easy on the teeth.”

“I’ll remember that.” He slides his fingers down her folds. “You're pink like the inside of a seashell,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding through the growing amount of slick. She moans, shifts her hips down so she can rub her clit against his fingers.

“Taste me, Diego.”

He leans in and tentatively licks upwards from her entrance to her clit. He pauses before licking her again, looks up at her while tasting her on his lips. She shivers, reaches down to run her fingers through his hair.

“That was a good start.” She rubs the spot right behind Diego’s ear.

He tilts his head, relaxing from the touch of her hand. “Tell me what to do. I am not sure to go fast or slow.”

She slides her fingers into his hair, smiles sweetly at him. “You’re so considerate, Diego. Just follow my lead, listen to me.”

“Okay.”

He moves back in, presses his mouth against her, flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue. He moans when her hands slide into his hair, tugging gently. He listens for hitches in her breath and feels when her thighs and stomach tense, figuring he’s doing it right when. He lets her guide him, doesn’t fight it.

He’s using his nose to rub her clit while he licks into her when her thighs press against his head; a moment later, his mouth and chin are soaking wet. He slowly pulls back, looks up at her. Her face is flushed, her mouth is open, and her eyes are closed.

“Preston?”

She opens her eyes slightly, looks down at him through lowered eyelashes.

“I guess I did that right.”

She laughs low in her throat, curls his hair around her fingers. “You could say that.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looks down at the shiny wet streaks.

“You taste good.”

“Flattery.”

 

* * *

 

Preston comes up with a signal for when she’s in the mood for Diego's mouth; she lounges on her bed in just a button-up flannel and cotton underwear.

One night, Diego comes home from the diner with a tired look on his face and carrying a shopping bag from the local drugstore. He takes one look at Preston and sets the bag down before stopping in the middle of the room.

“What do you want, _mi cielo_?”

She gets up and saunters over to him. He stops her mid-step, put his hands on her arms, asks her what she wants him to do for her.

“I want your mouth.”

She moves to sit on the edge of her bed with him draping her legs over his shoulders, underwear dangling from one ankle. She giggles when his hair tickles the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her giggle turns into a moan when his nose slowly slides against her clit, dragging it up and down as his tongue moves counterpoint. She slides her hands into his hair, pulls, grinds against his face.

He licks his way in, moving his thick tongue slow as molasses. She bears down, rides his face. His  hands are curled around her waist, thumbs pressed to her hipbones as he fucks her with his tongue. He moves one hand down, slowly slides two fingers into her, uses his thumb to rub at her clit. He looks up at her, licks his bottom lip before doubling his efforts; she's coming a few minutes later, bucking her hips and riding his fingers until the last of her orgasm has subsided.

He never asks her to reciprocate. This is all about her. He’s always one to be eager to please, and he wants to do that for her.

 

* * *

  

There’s a power outage one night because of a thunderstorm that rolls through from the south.

Diego’s seen storms before, but never one that holds the magnitude and power of one that comes across the Midwest. He’s hiding under the blankets of his bed, shaking and whispering prayers when Preston comes in, holding a candle.

“Diego? You in here?”

He sticks a hand out from the blankets, waves it at her. She goes over to his bed, sets the candle down and lifts the edge of the blankets to look at him.

“Are you scared?”

He looks up at her, eyes shining wet from tears in the dim candlelight.

“Do you want to come to my room?”

“Yes, please.”

She lets him hold the candle as they walk down the hall to her room. He makes a beeline for her bed and gets under the blankets, curls into a ball. She joins him a moment later.

“Thunder scares me too.” She faces him, curls her legs around his.

“I don’t like loud noises.” He moves into her, wraps his arms around her waist.

“This storm won’t last much longer.”

He closes his eyes and shudders when another thunderclap booms, makes the windows rattle. She smooths his hair down, kisses his forehead.

“You’re safe with me,” she whispers, hugs him tight when the lightning strikes, filling the room with blue light.

 

* * *

  

_Today, I went to the corner drugstore to purchase a box of condoms._

_I stood in the aisle for a few minutes, looking over the many choices available to me. I settled for a box of what passes for standard - no texture, no ribbing, no dots, no heating element. Simple._

_I played it cool as the cashier rang me up. It didn't make me as nervous as I thought it would._

_I’m going to keep them hidden in my messenger bag._

_I’m waiting for the right time to use them._

 

* * *

 

When Diego and Preston decide to go all the way, they make it as romantic as possible without turning it into overblown mush. He brings a bouquet of red roses, which he follows up with a sly smile and a subtle raise of eyebrows. She laughs and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Nice seduction face,” she whispers, runs her free hand through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I tried.”

“Let’s go upstairs, yeah? My folks aren’t home, which means we can get loud.”

Making out leads into a removal of clothes. He winds up lying on his back with her straddling his shoulders, her thighs bracketing his head. He’s breathing hot against her, his hands resting on her knees.

“Diego?”

“Yes?”

“Do that smirky eyebrow thing from earlier.”

He does it, which makes her laugh and lower herself down closer enough to his face so she can rub her clit along the bridge of his nose. He licks up into her, tip of his tongue pressing into her just so. She moans when he rolls his tongue to make an _rrr_ sound.

“Fuck, do that again.” She reaches for the headboard, holds on for balance. His hands curl around her hips when he trills his tongue again. She whimpers and shifts slightly when one of his hands slides from her hip down between her thighs.

“You’re so good at this.” She runs a hand through his hair, uses her pinkie finger to rub that one spot behind his ear.  He looks up at her as he uses his index finger to move her clit in small clockwise motions; he moves his tongue counterpoint to it. After she comes, she curls into his side, hand tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

“Diego?”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna go all the way tonight?”

He looks at her, feels heat creep from his neck up to his face.

“I do.” 

It takes some time before he’s ready to go; he keeps losing his nerve as well as his erection. After some time spent kissing and talking, he feels ready to do this.

He rolls the condom on and settles over her, holds himself at the base of his cock as he slides in slowly, stopping when he can’t take it anymore. She rubs small circles into his back, kisses his temple.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not going to last, Preston.”

“That’s fine, babe.”

He thrusts a few times, groans when his orgasm washes over him like a wave. She keeps rubbing his back, makes soft noises into his ear. he goes limp against her, nestles his head in the crook of her neck. It takes him a minute to catch his breath enough to talk.

“You didn’t come.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. First times are usually not great.”

“I feel bad though. You didn’t get to enjoy yourself with me.”

“That’s not true.” She tilts his face up so she can look at him. “I’m having a great time with you right now.”

“Um.” He closes his eyes. “We could. I mean. I want to try again? I don’t want to leave you empty-handed? Is that how the saying goes.”

“Aww, sweetheart.” She runs her thumbs over his cheekbones. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I like doing that for you.”

After going at it for a second and third time, Preston curls into Diego and tangles her legs with his. She feels herself drifting off to sleep when snuffles into her hair.

"I'm glad you finally got to come." He murmurs into her ear, presses a kiss to her neck.

"You were very thorough about doing that for me."

“What is that saying? Third time’s a charm?”

She laughs, the sound bright in the dark of her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“Good morning.” Diego kisses the top of Preston’s head, makes a pleased noise when she snuggles into him.

“Mornin’.” She yawns, resting her head on his chest. “How do you feel?”

“Really good.” He runs his fingers up and down her arm. “And you?”

“Really good too.” She looks up at him, gives him a sleepy smile.

“Would you like me to make breakfast?” He asks, moves into her more.

“Yes, please.”

He rummages through the fridge before finding enough ingredients to make chilaquiles. He sets the plate down in front of Preston and watches when she takes a bite.

“This is so good.” She smiles up at him, gives him a pat on the leg. “You’re a wonderful cook.” She glances at the clock. "Shit, I need to grab my phone charger before heading to work. Could you grab it for me? It's upstairs."

"Sure." He heads up to her room and starts looking for the charger. He spots it and kneels down next to the nightstand to unplug it when he catches a glimpse of something white through the slightly open bottom drawer of her nightstand. He opens it and pulls out the object.

“Preston, what’s this?” He walks into the kitchen with the object in his hand. She looks up from her plate, takes one look at what he’s holding, and starts to laugh.

“That’s my massager.”

“For your back?”

She laughs again. “No, no. That’s a Hitachi Magic Wand. It’s for massaging, yes. But I don’t use it on my back.”

“Then what do you use it-oh.” He looks at the wand and blushes. “I understand.”

“Yeah.”

“Just, um. Let me know if you ever want me to use it. On you.”

“I’ll do that.”

“I’m going to put it back now.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

_So I am no longer a virgin._

_Preston said virginity is an antiquated social construct. She knows more about things like that, so I agreed with her._

_All I know is that we both had fun._

_I didn’t last long, but Preston wasn’t disappointed. She said that was normal for my first time._

_I'm relieved. Not about losing my virginity, but feeling accepted by Preston when it came to this._

_We did it two more times. When she finally came, I said something like third time’s a charm._

_That made her laugh in a way I haven’t heard before._

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Preston easily convinces Diego to come look at the horses inside the barn. There’s a couple of horses, but the real reason she wants to show him inside is the large pile of hay in the far corner. He stays quiet when he comes, but she lets out a shout that disturbs the horses to the point of making them whinny.

They spend a good part of an hour in that pile of hay.

Later on at dinner, Diego says nothing to Preston about the small bits of straw in her hair. They’re dispersed at random; he smiles to himself. She catches him smiling, kicks his ankles underneath the table.

“Do you have something to say, Diego?” Preston grins at him.

“These mashed potatoes are wonderful, Mrs. Moffatt.” He turns to look at Preston's mom, gives her his brightest smile. Preston’s mother smiles back at him, offers Diego a second helping. He accepts.

“Preston, did you know you have hay in your hair? I think you and the horses probably had a hay fight when you fed them earlier,” Mr. Moffatt leans over to Preston and brushes some of the hay out of her hair. Diego makes a similar brushing gesture at Preston as he rubs his legs against hers under the table.

“Looks like the horse won that fight," Diego says.

Preston keeps grinning. “I think it was a draw.”

 

* * *

 

There's a nice day a couple of weeks later where the diner staff wants to enjoy it, so everyone gets the day off. Preston's getting off the phone with Alex when she gets an idea.

"Hey, Diego. Let's go camping. There's a nice spot close to here I want to show you."

They make their way to the campsite via horseback. They don’t have to go very far to reach that spot; there’s a small bit of stream that runs through the land belonging to the Moffatts'. There’s a little space next to the water where the horses can be hitched and sheltered.

The flap of the tent is barely closed before she's on him, knocking him down to the sleeping bag and making quick work of getting rid of their clothes. She gives the quiet signal by pressing a finger to his lips, straddling him and rolling a condom on before sinking down and riding him slowly, taking her time. He comes with a soft moan and she comes with a sharp cry. They’re not covering mouths with hands like usual since there’s nobody around to hear them.

After, they’re wrapped up in a soft quilt when he asks what got into her.

“The fresh air always gets me going,” she says. “Gotta love nature.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you wanna go on a picnic?”

“Sure.”

They spend the afternoon going for a walk and are just about to settle down for that picnic when clouds come up and it starts to rain. Diego wraps the food in the blanket and carries it to the nearest tree for protection while Preston sheds her blouse and skirt to dance naked in the rain. He watches her from the dry safety of the canopy.

Minutes later, he decides to join in on the fun and is out there dancing with her, also naked as the day he was born.

The rain stops and they’re drying out underneath the shelter of the tree when he looks at her and laughs.

“I don’t know why I even wear clothes at your house anymore. I’m naked more often than not.”

She shakes the water from her hair before pulling her dress back on.  “Yes, but I don’t think my parents would appreciate seeing your business on a regular basis.”

“I can see where that would be a problem for everyone.”

 

* * *

  
Diego comes home one day and sees Preston curled up on the sofa in the living room, wearing her favorite flannel and a pair of shorts. He walks over and kneels next to the sofa, asks if she's feeling okay, frowns when she shakes her head no.

“Not feeling well?”

“Cramps.”

He simply nods.

“Could you spoon me?”

“Absolutely.”

He maneuvers himself behind her and molds his body to hers, slides his arms around her waist.

“Better?”

“So much better.”

 

* * *

 

There's a new sandwich shop that opens in town. Diego and Preston go there for lunch and wait in line for twenty minutes because getting a new restaurant in town means everyone's just got to be there all at the same time. They finally get their food and claim a booth in the back when she starts laughing quietly.

“Hey, Diego.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you know that you’re my favorite sub of the day?”

“What?”

'”Because you’re a six inch.”

“Preston, no. That’s not possible. I am not that popular.”

“I like your six inch. It should be more popular.”

“Preston, stooooooooooooop.”

“I like it extra spicy.”

She giggles while he flicks a slice of jalapeno at her. He sighs and lays his head on the table in defeat.

 

* * *

 

There's an odd cold front at the start of September that brings with it a fair amount of wind. Diego’s having a hard time trying to get to sleep; the steady breeze is making the branches on the tree by Preston’s bedroom window scratch against the glass.

He tosses and turns, finally giving up on trying to go to sleep. He rolls over and sees Preston sitting up in bed, hugging her knees against her chest.

“ _Mi cielo_ , what’s wrong?” He sits up and turns on the lamp before reaching out to her.

She turns her face, resting her cheek against her knees. She looks at him for a moment before moving in quick to kiss him hard. He flails his hands before resting them on her arms. He returns the kiss the best he can while he moves so he can accommodate her when she moves to straddle his thighs. She pulls away from his mouth, runs her hands down his chest, pausing to rub her thumbs over his nipples.

“Weather like this turns me on,” she murmurs, moving her hands down to his stomach. "Always makes something stir inside me."

“Oh.” He really doesn’t know what else to say to a confession like this. “Um, Preston? Are we doing it like this? Do you want me to get a condom?”

“Mmm, yeah. In the nightstand.”

He leans over and pulls the drawer open, reaches into the basket, grabs one. He tears it open with his teeth. He gives his cock a couple of quick strokes before rolling it on.

“Ready when you are.”

She bites her bottom lip while she lowers herself onto him, going slow and clenching around him at intervals.

“Feel me,” she whispers, leaning back to balance herself on his calves once he’s most of the way inside her. He reaches down, rubs two fingers against her clit.

“Like that?”

She nods, rolls her hips down. He thrusts up, stomach clenching reflexively when she tightens around him.

“Preston, this feels...feels so good…” He bends his knees so she has something to rest against before he thrusts again, fingers still moving her clit in small circles.

“You feel good too, Diego. Just the right size.” She bites his lip when she starts bouncing, moves up from resting against his legs to sitting upright and holding onto his hips for balance. “Keep thrusting, okay?”

He looks up at her, thrusting in counterpoint with her bouncing. He can’t stop the multitude of soft gasps that fall from his mouth as he fucks up into her; his hands slide up from her thighs to her hips to her breasts, cupping them and gently rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“I’m so close, Preston,” he groans, thrusting up harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the low creak of the bed frame replacing the sound of the blowing wind in his ears. She leans forward more, her hands now bracing against his chest as she moves in time with his thrusts, grinds her clit against the small bump of bone right above his cock.

“Me too, me too...fuck, Diego, fuck me harder…”

He snaps his hips up, croons low in his throat as he comes, keeps moving into her as he shakes all over. He’s got enough preservation to move a hand back down and go back to rubbing her clit so she can get off too. She’s crying out and bucking against him a few moments later, squeezing his cock tight.

“Fuck, Diego, I’m still coming.” She keeps moving on him, shudders when a second orgasm hits; she bites down on her fist and looks down in time to watch herself come so hard that she’s literally dripping onto him. He’s looking down to, mouth half-open and eyes wide.

“Preston?” He furrows his brows and reaches up to help her down onto the bed after she moves off him. “Preston, are you okay?”

She’s lying still, quiet while she catches her breath and waits for the tiny spasms in her hips and thighs to subside.

“Preston, what was that? Did you, um. Was that…” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, thinking while waiting for her to reply.

“Was that what?” She murmurs, closing her eyes and inhaling deep when she feels herself finally relaxing.

“I know you came, but did you _come?”_

“Mmhm, I sure did.” She giggles. “Congrats, Diego. You’ve just witnessed a true blue female orgasm.”

“Oh, like. I have heard of those. My cousins.” He waves a hand dismissively. “They say it’s called squirting.”

“That it is.”

“Wow. That was a lot.” He looks down at his thighs, sees how the fluid makes them shine in the dim lamplight.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking that they didn’t exist.”

“Oh, no. I just thought I would never see one for myself.”

She laughs, reaches over and pats him on the stomach.

“You’re always showing me the most amazing things, Preston.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go to sleep, okay? I think the wind won’t keep us up anymore.”

He nods and lays down, curls up against her side and pulls the blankets over them.

The wind keeps blowing outside, undeterred, but has no more ill effect on those it was keeping awake.

 

* * *

  

Preston helps Diego learn to drive by letting him drive hers to and from work.

“I think Betsy likes you.”

“How can you tell?”

“You don't have to push on the brakes so hard like I do. You have the magic touch, Diego.”

He manages to parallel park without hitting other cars when pulling into work. He’s rewarded later with Preston introducing him to the concept of sixty-nine.

“So what did you think of that?” She gently runs her fingernails across the sparse hair on his chest.

“That was nice.”

“Just nice?”

“It was like parallel parking, bur for people. And in bed. Just as tricky as a car, but much more fun.”

She giggles. “You have the most delightful ways of describing things. I love that about you.”

 

* * *

 

Diego takes up watercolor painting as a hobby. He paints Preston one night; the notion strikes him after they’ve had two glasses of red wine each and are sitting on the sofa together, listening to a best of John Coltrane album.

She doesn’t hesitate in undressing. She’s lying on the bed, relaxed and draped across its surface, the soft sound of brushstrokes against canvas cloaked by “Aisha” coming through the speakers and filling the room.

She wants to try her hand at painting too. She purchases a set of non-toxic body paints and asks if she can paint him. Her meaning goes over his head, so she emphasizes that she wants to paint _him,_ gesturing to the set of paints and brushes. She paints a sunflower across his bare shoulders, winds the stem down his spine and across his right hip. She has him keep still while she takes a picture of her artwork.

The photo becomes the lockscreen on her phone.

 

* * *

 

Whenever they have sex, Preston usually pulls Diego on top, his little belly fitting neatly into the concave of her hips. She wiggles underneath him when he pushes in, the thickness of his cock stretching her in the best way possible.

She wraps her legs around his waist, thighs pressing into his hips as he starts fucking her at a steady pace, his open mouth just above hers, whispering curses and I love you’s in two languages as he grabs her thighs, starts moving faster and harder.

She's not as vocal as he is; she prefers touch as a means of communication. She grinds against him, making him groan into her ear as he tries moving harder into her. She rakes her nails down his back before grabbing his ass to hold him against her, keeps him in place so he can't thrust. He gasps into her ear.

“Ow, Preston.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“Um-”

“Yes?”

“I liked that.”

 _Well, that’s new,_ she thinks. “Want me to do it again?”

“Yes.”

She rakes her fingernails down his back again; he groans in response. She files this new piece of information away.

 

* * *

  

For his first Halloween party in the states, he goes as Aladdin and has a stuffed Genie pinned to his vest. Preston dresses up as Dolly Parton; she goes all out with a big blond wig and a sparkly dress. They drive to Alex’s house to help set up for the party.

When the party gets into full swing, they get tipsy on jello shots and three rounds of tequila. He calls a cab when it starts getting late and she whispers a suggestion into his ear (‘hey, if you take me home now, I’ll let you rub my magic lamp.’ )

They stand outside on the sidewalk while waiting for the cab, deciding to leave her car at Alex’s since driving was not an option of how many sheets to the wind they were. Hoping the cold would help sober them up a little bit. He’s leaning against the light post in an attempt to stay upright and she’s leaning into him, the curls of her wig tickling the side of his face. He looks over at her, notices there’s bits of tissue sticking out of her blouse.

“Preston.”

“Hmm?”

“I think. I think your coconuts are trying to escape.”

She looks down the sad state of affairs that is the top of her dress and immediately starts laughing.

“Nooo, not my coconuts. Diego, help me and my coconuts.”

He starts laughing too, reaching over to try and tuck the paper back into Preston’s dress. They’re so busy fighting with the tissues that they don’t notice the cab pulling up to the curb. He steps away and opens the door for her, helping her into the car before joining her. She’s still laughing when the door closes behind them.

“That was so close, oh my God. Thank you for rescuing my coconuts, Diego.”

When they get back to the farm and up to his room, he takes off his costume and she removes most of hers, choosing to leave the wig on while she goes down on him. While she's cupping his balls, her fingers brush up against his perineum, which makes him unconsciously shift down enough for one of her fingers to press against his entrance.

The blow job is abandoned in favor of her helping him discover the joys of being fingered. Afterwards, he has a far better understanding of how it drives her up the wall when he does it to her.

“Now where did you learn how to do that?” He’s lying on the bed, arms and legs stretched out, feeling boneless after an orgasm that had him see explosions of color behind closed eyes.

“ _Y Tu Mama Tambien_ ,” she says nonchalantly, curls into his side. “What an educational film.”

 

* * *

 

_Preston showed me tonight that I have a spot inside me that can bring me to a powerful orgasm. I know what she means now when she says finding it is a special skill that a lot of people don’t have or care to learn._

_I'm always learning something new from her._

_I love that._

_I love her._

 

* * *

 

Preston is in charge of Thanksgiving dinner, so she prepares an all-vegetarian meal. Diego playfully asks if she went to Whole Foods for the tofurkey; Preston sticks her tongue out and states there is no such thing in North Dakota.

This is his first Thanksgiving and it is very different (he can hear his mama: _no real turkey? tsk!_ ) but he enjoys it. He’s spending it with special people in a new place and that’s all he’s thankful for.

The night ends in her room with them naked and curled up underneath a blanket, feeding each other bites of pumpkin pie and watching Alice’s Restaurant on TV.

 

* * *

 

For Christmas, Diego makes tamales and homemade horchata. Preston dives right in, eating half of the tamales and drinking two mugs of horchata. She’s slumped down in her chair, hand resting on her full tummy, and smiles while she watches him put on a Santa hat before handing her a small wrapped box. She carefully unwraps the paper, underneath is a small red box with a lid. She lifts the lid to see a necklace inside.

“I didn’t know if you liked jewelry, so I got a plain necklace. You can add whatever you want to it, or…” he trails off, wringing his hands nervously. Did he make a mistake in getting a bold choice for a gift? He’s looking at her, watching for her reaction.

“It’s wonderful, I love it.” She smiles, sweeps her hair to the side so she can put the necklace on. “I got you something too, it’s under the tree next to Mickles.”

He walks on his knees over to the tree and reaches for the present, careful not to wake the cat. He opens the underside of the paper; a sweater falls onto his lap.

“My mom knit that for you. I asked her to make it too big because that’s far more comfortable than too small. I also hope you like purple. That’s the only color yarn she had left.”

He pulls the sweater on; the sleeves covered his hands and the hem falls just above his hips. He smiles and waggles the sleeves at her. “I love it. It’s very warm. And I love purple. Tell your mom I said thank you very much.”

It's too cold in her room, so they move blankets and pillows downstairs and set up camp next to the fireplace. Diego adds a fresh log to the fire before crawling under the blankets next to Preston.

"Hey, Preston."

"Hmm?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

 

* * *

 

Diego and Preston spend New Years’ in a quiet fashion. She's lying on the bed with him resting between her legs, his head resting on her stomach. She’s gently running her fingers through his hair.

“Did you call your mom?”

“Yes, I wished her a happy new year.”

“That’s nice.” She feels herself starting to doze off when the sound of sniffling brings her back. A moment later, she feels a warm wet spot on her shirt.

“Diego, are you okay?” She touches his face, feels tears on his cheeks. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“I miss home.” He tilts his head back so he can look up at her; there's tear tracks on his cheeks, shiny in the dim glow from the television.

“Sweetie.” She cups his face in her hands, wipes the tears away with her thumbs. “I know you do. C’mere.”

She pulls him up, embraces him tightly. He sniffles into the curve of her neck, returning her hug.

 

* * *

  
For the rest of the winter, whenever Preston gets up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, she reaches for Diego’s sweater on the chair next to the bed and pulls it on. It’s not much, but it does keep her a little bit warm on the brief walk to and from her bed.

She walks on tiptoes, does her thing, and walks back the same way. She wriggles back into the carved-out spot under the blankets before pulling the sweater off. All of this motion makes him snuffle in his sleep and reach out for her.

 

* * *

 

Diego pulls a muscle in his back during a dinner rush at the diner; he powers through the pain until the end of his shift.

After driving back to the farm, Preston gets him up the stairs, through the door of her room, and down on the bed with the greatest attention to not disturbing his back. She covers him with a blanket and places a pillow underneath his head before getting an idea to grab something that could relieve some of his pain. She goes into the kitchen for a few minutes before coming back out with something held in her hand. She sits down next to him and opens her hand to reveal what is inside.

“Have you ever smoked pot before?” she asks him, holding the joint out to him.

“My mother says marijuana is bad for you.”

“It’s not bad for you. This right here is good stuff - I got it from Alex. Sometimes I use it when I have very bad cramps.”  She reaches for the lighter on the nightstand.

“Take a couple of hits. I promise it won't hurt you.”

He looks at the joint with a look of apprehension on his face.

“I’ll go first if that makes you less nervous.”

“Okay.”

She uses her lips to hold the joint steady while she lights it. She inhales deeply, holds the smoke in for a long moment before blowing it out on a slow exhale.

“See? Not so bad.”

He nods. “I want to try.”

“Can you sit up? I don't want you to hurt your back more than it already is.”  

She takes another deep hit, coughing on the exhale. He tries to sit up, but the pain is back is too much and he decides to stay lying down.

“I have an idea,” She rasps out. “Let me shotgun you.”

“Shotgun me?”

“It means that I take a hit, lean over to you, and blow the smoke into your mouth.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not. Here, let’s try.”

He watches with rapt attention while she takes a hit before leaning over towards him. He opens his mouth right before hers meets his. Smoke fills his mouth and his eyes go wide. She rubs his arms with her hands while they breathe the smoke back and forth until it’s dissipated. He blinks when she pulls away.

“Was that too much for you?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“Can I help you up so you're sitting up? Lying down won't be much fun when the weed starts taking effect.”

“Please.”

After propping him up on pillows, they smoke the rest of the joint. It takes around twenty minutes before it hits him full force.

“Whoa, Preston. My legs feel heavy.”

“Mmm, there it is.”

He reaches for her hand in an effort to stay grounded. They link fingers and just sit there, letting the buzz roll over them in slow waves.

 

* * *

 

To celebrate Diego’s one year anniversary of arriving in North Dakota, Diego and Preston go camping at her favorite spot. Most of the night is spent stargazing until it gets too cold and they move into the tent to pursue other and much warmer activities.

He wakes up in the tent alone. He rubs at his eyes before he looks through the open flap to see her sitting on the log in front. He wraps the quilt around himself before going outside to join her.

“Good morning.” He sits on the log next to her and opens one side of the quilt, wraps it around her shoulders. She moves to him, drapes her legs over his lap and snuggles in, making a contented noise when he tucks the quilt around her.

“How did you sleep?” She nuzzles her nose against his shoulder, pulls the quilt tighter around her.

“Wonderfully.” He kisses the top of her head. “I can’t believe you’re up before me.”

“I didn’t want to miss the sunrise.”

“That’s a good reason.”

She lays her head on his shoulder. He holds her close, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence while watching the sun come up.

 

* * *

 

After packing up and driving back to the farm, Diego writes in his journal later that day. He looks over at where Preston's sitting on the floor, using a piece of yarn to play with Mickles.

_I have been here for a year and I am not so scared of the sky anymore._

_I don’t have to be._

_There’s sunshine all around me._

 

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from "settin' the woods on fire" by hank williams
> 
> girl!preston looks an awful lot like mackenzie davis
> 
> apologies if there's a quotation mark or comma out of place
> 
> yadda yadda blue hellsite, you know the drill


End file.
